


What the Lady Wants

by pyalgroundblz (acidtonguejenny)



Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: F/M, Mindfuck, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 11:48:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/572941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acidtonguejenny/pseuds/pyalgroundblz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She breathes ice and decadence into his lungs, leaving frost to gather on his teeth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What the Lady Wants

"GetoffgetoffgetOFF!"

"Why?" Meave pouts from her seat on her Knight's midsection. "Why would I do a thing like that…" She swoops down to lick and gnaw at his jaw, purring.

Harry hisses where his skin turns black and cold beneath her touch. He feels layers of ice grow where she sits on his belly, freezing the ragged remains of his clothing, armor stolen away, and draining all sensation from the tissue beneath. 

The Winter Lady stretches out over his body like a satisfied feline, raking her nails down his shoulders and leaving long lines of screaming pain in his muscles. She rotates her hips, slow and maddening against his pelvis. Harry lurches, gasping.

"...don't approve of frostbitting," He mumbles drunkenly, trying to turn his face away from Maeve's hurting mouth, attempting to bring his mind back to forefront of things. He's not enjoying this--he's _stopping_ it-- inaminute, o-or two...

Maeve leaves her nibbling on his cheekbone and licks near his eye, his nose, down and into his mouth, distracting him with her fingers and nails and coaxing it open before he realizes her game. Harry's hands dart up, coming down hard on her back, her ass, holding her to him. Maeve giggles and moans, twisting above him as she wraps their tongues together.

She breathes ice and decadence into his lungs, leaving frost to gather on his teeth as his resolve snaps and he rolls her over with a snarl. Maeve's triumphant laugh, high and girlish, devolves into a moan.

He rips at her clothing, too-small t-shirt and cut up shorts that strain around a full ass, growling into her neck. Her flesh between his teeth when he bites, on his sweeping tongue stings. Maeve shrieks laughter and undulates beneath him, pressing up into his weight with hips and hands, not resisting, enticing. Harry obliges.

His pants are in tatters, iced over pieces crumbling away. He only has to pull her shorts out of the way to plunge into her. It's dry, it's painful, it's _so good_.

The Lady squeals, sighs, legs hooked around him and holding him close, hands around his neck and in his frost-sprinkled hair. She arches her breasts into his mouth.

"Good b-boy, so good…my knight," She pants, rocked by his thrusts. " _My_ knight, you're mine, aren't you? Not hers…mine…ba _by_ …ah!"

Harry doesn't hear her, busy pursuing his own ends with bestial focus. Being in her is like freezing to death, tingling-numb, wet and cold enough to _bite_ but the cold doesn't touch him anymore. 

She coos at him, pets his face and back, hugs him with her thighs as she chants _mine, mine, mine._

"I _wanted_ you," she says against his ear. "I begged her for you, you big, powerful brute. Give me _what I want._ " Maeve hisses, nails tipped in ice and digging.

His emission freezes in her cunt, and the Lady holds him trapped in her for as long as it pleases her.

**Author's Note:**

> Cold Days in _two days_ flkadsjflkdsajf


End file.
